A Torn Skirt and Scuffed Lacquer
by BadOldWestern
Summary: "She was surprised that for a man who was so persnickety about fresh lacquer, Kristoff had no qualms with ruining anything of hers."


She was surprised that for a man who was so persnickety about fresh lacquer, Kristoff had no qualms with ruining anything of hers. Rows of buttons torn right off. Hems stepped on and ripped. Countless undergarments destroyed.

She would never stoop to calling him oafish, mostly because it wasn't true. He possessed a finesse that she was sure most men didn't offer. His hands were delicate and yielding; handling Sven, carving ice into bricks, ghosting over her skin. He was capable of great care and caution. A striking tenderness in his large hands.

Such care was not, however, reserved for silk dresses, her stockings, sometimes even her jewelry. Of course her mind was never in a state to be bothered by the rattling of beads hitting the floor, how the muffled ripping noises from where his hands where around her hips. She was too distracted to mourn the loss of a stocking, to worry over a shredded bodice, to examine the frayed ends of a ribbon.

He tore through more than he ever realized in his eagerness, halves of a nightdress floating limply to the floor, effortlessly vanquished but the valiant reindeer king, simply because a dress was a dress and Anna was Anna and the comparison was so pointless it never occurred to him.

They were a terrible combination to begin with, he had spent his life too poor to gauge the object's worth and she could too easily acquire more that at first she didn't even pick up on the pile of ripped dresses sent off the seamstress and what seemed like a crate of new petticoats and stockings that came in for her. To the two of them, the objects were worthless.

Once the afterglow of their interactions had faded, after he had left the next morning or she gathered her clothes to return to her room, she'd see the slain garments scattered like road kill all over the floor. She'd clutch them to her chest with a blush, remembering the moment of shock and then the sensation of nakedness following when he tore them straight off her body like he was searching for something he was desperate for.

Once her fingers found the frayed rip along the seam of a dress, they began to quiver, and she'd feel dizzy for him all over again. When the memory of their nights together faded, she'd grow frustrated over the damage, only to be seduced by the memory of the garment's removal once she saw his eyes darken at the sight of her.

That would lead to more destruction of her wardrobe.

Elsa of course, had to cut in about the unreasonable spending.

"The court seamstress's eye twitches whenever I mention you," she brought up cautiously one afternoon, just the two sisters calmly drinking hot chocolate in the library. They made a point of doing this a as often as they could. It was a chance to gossip and inquire, to tell stories and giggle, and with Elsa's kingdom and Anna's new adventures, they both had a lot to catch up on.

Anna blushed, finally realizing the connection between the seamstress's stress and her need for repairs.

"Well…you know me…totally clumsy…"

Elsa's upper lip twitched under a suppressed smile. "Clumsy. Well. You'll have to be more careful when you're with your friends."

Anna turned the same flushed red of the cushion behind her, and Elsa took pity and dropped the subject, turning it to the preparations for the ball that night.

Anna's cheeks didn't pale, despite the subject change, because tonight Kristoff would be returning from his trip up the mountains. He hadn't been gone long, but he also hadn't been taking her with him as often now that she tended to be such a distraction. Distractions…her mind chuckled and curled into itself. Savoring the memory of warming herself against him on those cold trips. Her mind was thick and weighted with longing. She'd missed him.

Elsa stared at her carefully, and Anna yelped, realizing what she had just spaced out thinking about. "Sorry, what?"

"I said, maybe you should take a walk. It's so sunny today, you should get some fresh air to clear your head."

A walk to clear her head. That's what she needed. She muttered her apologies to Elsa and nearly broke her nose tripping over an ottoman on her way out.

Anna dug into her pocket in search for the other mitten, slowly remembering that Kristoff had tossed it aside while they were in his moving sleigh (Sven practically drove himself when the weather was calm) and the mitten had fluttered away. She groaned mournfully at the memory, but her bare hands against Kristoff's neck were better than wool and yarn. Shaking her head, she ran down the halls to her room, trying to sneak off for a few hours alone.

The ball was mind-numbingly dull, being a unmarried princess she received enough attention to make her feel smothered. If only her sister had hosted more of these events before her coronation, Anna would have known that her title alone would gather all the proposals she could ever want.

Now that she had them, she had no desire to accept any of them.

A servant approached her with a quick, short gait reserved for important information.

"There's a message for you, your highness," Anna curtsied quickly in response, nodding eagerly.

The servant smiled knowingly. Everyone was aware, and supportive of their relationship. She'd overheard the kitchen staff talking about what their babies would look like on several occasions.

"He's here," was the simple message, "he's moving the sled out of the cold right now. He'll be in the stables."

A smile broke out across her face, gathering up her skirts to get them out of the way when she began to run.

….

Kristoff rubbed a sore spot on the back of his neck when he hung up Sven's harness, returning to the sled to put away his remaining supplies. There was a clamor of thudding in the hay on the ground, and that was his only warning when he was tackled from behind.

He grinned, pivoting and lifting an arm to curl Anna against him.

"Aren't you cold?" he glanced cautiously at her bare shoulders.

She rolled her eyes, rising on her toes for a kiss. "That's what I have you for."

Already, her mind was heaving a sigh of relief, despite the muffled worry fizzling at the edges. Oh right. Her dress.

There was no way she was getting out of this without a pound of mud caked into the skirts, at best.

Already he was nipping at the ribbon around her neck, his teeth edging under it to reach her skin.

His hands reached for the sash of her gown, about to tear it apart as easily as a piece of paper.

"Stop," she whispered.

He pulled away, a surprised hurt cast over his face.

"How about…I handle my clothes…" she breathed gently, pressing her hands against his chest.

"Alright." He agreed, not quite paying attention. He pulled her against him with a firm tug against her hips, and she stumbled forward. Pressed again his body, she tried to slither out of his grasp as gently as possible.

He only held her fast, glancing down with a 'anything wrong?' sort of expression which she shook her head in response to. He grinned wolfishly, grabbing fistfuls of her skirts, raising them past her knees, over her thighs to bunch around her hips and…

She heard a terrible but familiar noise from where his hands were.

She glanced at the layers of torn silk. "Damn it, Kristoff!"

"What?"

"You keep tearing up my clothes!" she held up her skirts, which now sported a muddy rip straight down the seam.

Kristoff gave her a strange look. "Come here." She reluctantly took his outstretched hand and he pulled her to the sled. Anna gave him an incredulous look that usually accompanied when he tried to change the subject to sex during an argument. He shook his head in response, and placed her hand over the lacquer he was so proud of. She stared at him indignantly, until her fingers found the deep scratches in the carving. Scratches about the size of the heels of her shoes. Her mind buzzed with confusion until she realized how exactly her feet were propped up on the sled in order for the claw marks to get there.

"Why didn't you tell me I was damaging it?" her face fell and he immediately regretted showing her.

"Because this happens for the same reason I keep damaging your clothes. You didn't know you were doing it. Your mind was on something else."

She felt less guilty because of the smug look on his face, from what he did to her to make her scratch at her footholds. Ironically, it was his method of making her take her feet down, reaching over and shoving her skirts aside, parting her legs to pleasure her until her limp legs fell to the floor.

"I feel bad," she admitted softly.

"Don't," he pressed a kiss to her brow, shrugging, "It was worth it. I'd rather you feel good than have a perfect sleigh, you know? I'm still sorry about your clothes. I can work on…uh…holding back."

"Don't be." She returned, grabbing his hand, "I, uh…don't really want you to hold back with me."

She blushed so brilliantly red after saying this, but held her ground so her words maintained their meaning.

He bit the inside of his cheek, not acting on the permission she gave him for a moment too long. She cleared her throat.

"In fact…well, this dress has been fixed enough. I think it's a lost cause…"

She demonstrated the ruined material for him, which did bare a good part of her leg.

He raised an eyebrow at her, nodding to urge her on.

"So if you were to, I don't know, rip it off of me, it's be going in the garbage anyway tomorrow morning anyway, so…"

He scooped her up in his arms, lugging her bridal-style out of the stables. "Way to get me excited to tear that off of you."

"Just do it soon," she moaned, nuzzling her nose against the underside of his ear.

"I'm on it," he promised, staring down at her in a way that made her flush in the best way.

One torn skirt and some scuffed lacquer were reasonable costs, in her opinion

_A/N They fuck in the sled. And the barn. And basically everywhere. _

_This one lacks the sex but makes up for it in imagination. I think. I hope Kristoff wasn't too oafish, I wasn't going for that, more…big cute guy not focusing on the pretty silk dress because he just wants the pretty girl underneath. _

_That kitchen staff line was for you guys. In that moment, I swear we were all the kitchen staff. I feel like the whole kingdom ships it so hard. _

_For my non-tumblr followers, I'd like to let you know I really, really love feedback. I love it. Love it. Seriously. And my tumblr followers. To everyone; reviews make my day. _

_Also, requests! Comment or message me requests! Please! They're fun! Yay!_


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